


Komorebi

by kettish



Series: Biomes [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 00:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettish/pseuds/kettish
Summary: A training trip to a beautiful world brings revelations and growth.





	Komorebi

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to sanerontheinside for beta!! Hope y'all enjoy!

It was evening at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Qui-Gon strolled down the quieted halls of the main building, where Jedi could be seen kneeling or sitting in meditation. It was custom for the time after late meal to be spent in contemplative silence, or in your own quarters where you wouldn’t disturb those who did. His boots tapped softly on the marble floor as he walked, accompanied by the soft swish of his thick-cloth trousers and soft-worn robes. The sound wasn’t too disruptive to those meditating, as he was choosing only on the main walkways on his way home, and they knew to expect passersby.

He passed through a covered walkway that bisected a greenhouse, planted with native flora of Yavin and steaming with heat and humidity. The lush greenery eased him just as the familiar walk home relaxed him. It was a pleasantly tired Master that pressed a hand to the lock of his door before entering and shucking his robe.

Qui-Gon was hanging up his robe when warm arms slipped around his waist and a kiss was pressed into the back of his neck, Obi-Wan needing to go to tiptoes in order to reach. 

“Good evening, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said warmly, and Qui-Gon could feel the smile against his back. “I missed you, darling.”

“Good evening, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon rumbled. He clasped Obi-Wan’s arms around his waist and leaned back slightly, enjoying the feel of his lover pressed against him.

They basked for a moment before Obi-Wan pulled back so Qui-Gon could turn and face him. Qui-Gon leaned in and framed Obi-Wan’s face with his hands before leaning down to kiss him. When he was done, Obi-Wan stood there with eyes nearly shut, holding one of Qui-Gon’s hands to his cheek to nuzzle it, and Qui-Gon felt he couldn’t be any happier than he was at this moment.

“Dinner?” Obi-Wan asked , opening his eyes half way. Qui-Gon felt the first licks of desire slide along their pair-bond and smiled slowly, his own need kindling in his belly. He swiped his thumb across Obi-Wan’s cheek, stroking him slowly, and let his gaze travel down Obi-Wan’s body before coming back to meet his eyes.

“Dinner looks delicious,” he said, and licked his lip once for effect. Obi-Wan’s eyes went even darker and they adjourned to the bedroom for the evening.

 

Later, as they chatted about their respective days, Obi-Wan mentioned there was a message waiting at the comm unit for Qui-Gon. 

“I told you to just open them,” Qui-Gon chided, sitting down at the unit. Obi-Wan made a rude noise from the kitchen, getting some food ready now that they’d satisfied other hungers. “It’s not as if you weren’t checking my messages daily as a padawan!”

“But I’m not now!” Obi-Wan called back. The heating unit beeped and Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, powering up the unit as he listened to the sound of dishes being moved and the heating unit door opening and being shut. 

A message marked “priority” was at the top of the list. Qui-Gon tapped it to open it and read through before groaning loudly.

“Obi-Wan,” he yelled. “We’ve been set as escorts on the Senior Padawans’ Survival Expedition next week!” 

“Really?” Obi-Wan asked, popping out of the kitchen doorway. He grinned. “Excellent! That was such a wonderful trip. It should be lovely this time of year.”

“As always,” Qui-Gon agreed. “But you’re forgetting--you won’t be going as a participant, but as a chaperone.” Obi-Wan frowned, then waved off the comment with a ‘nah.’

“It will be fun,” Obi-Wan insisted. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help but return Obi-Wan’s excited smile. 

 

They spent the next few days packing and preparing. Obi-Wan went back to his own apartments, which he rarely used now but kept to maintain pretense. It bothered Qui-Gon a little that Obi-Wan wasn’t ready to let anyone know they were together, but they were both private men, so he respected Obi-Wan’s stance even though he didn’t agree.

Qui-Gon made sure he had everything on the necessary items list they’d been given, then added a few things he knew he’d want such as his favored blend of tea (which the commissary never carried nor supplied on training trips) and his datapad. Obi-Wan returned after he’d finished and they spent some time going over the syllabus and their individual assignments: Obi-Wan would be assisting ‘saber lessons and leading morning katas, while Qui-Gon would be teaching lessons on using the Living Force to determine possible foraged food toxicity. Both were good matches for their skills. 

On the scheduled departure date Obi-Wan got out of bed and left early to go back to his apartment and get his luggage, and they didn’t meet again until they reached the hangar. Excited Padawans were all chattering away at each other or saying their goodbyes to their Masters while the chaperones were busy ensuring everyone had arrived. Qui-Gon smiled and Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan smiled back, just as they always did before boarding transport. Time to work.

First thing on the list was conducting a lay-out. The Padawans had all been responsible for packing their own gear, and would be held accountable for any lack, but in the interest of safety and expediency the Jedi Order had collectively learned to see what was missing before leaving the Temple. Cloaks were spread on the floor and gear set out on top, organized as the trip leader instructed, and the Knights and Masters each took a segment of Padawans to check. 

Only a few items were missing, overall: these were Senior Padawans, in the final stage of their training, which they began as infants in the creche. Missing a piece of gear on an expedition could result in an less-than-stellar outcome at best and fatalities at worst, and they were aware. The items needed were fetched from dorms and the quartermaster, and in fifteen minutes the Padawans had repacked and boarded.

“That was an auspicious beginning,” Qui-Gon commented as Obi-Wan sat down next to him in the galley. Now that they were on their way, the Padawans and their escorts were allowed some free time to socialize ahead of their two weeks in the woods. “I remember that one young man on your trip that completely forgot his camp stove and sleeping bag.”

“We had to wait an hour for him to get reamed by his Master and then retrieve them,” Obi-Wan remembered wryly. “Not the best start to an adventure, that was for sure. This group seems to have their heads on straight, though.” 

By force of habit, Qui-Gon reached over to hold Obi-Wan’s hand as he always did when they were underway to a new mission. Obi-Wan pulled his hand back before he could touch him, though, and then laughed and reached into his robe to pull out his ‘padd.

“Have you seen this new game? It’s rather addictive…” He showed Qui-Gon the logic game as he played. Qui-Gon watched quietly, then ignored the tiny barb in his heart from Obi-Wan’s casual rejection. Obi-Wan looked as startled as I felt, Qui-Gon reminded himself. He probably hadn’t realized how little privacy we’ll have. 

It was the first time since entering their relationship that he and Obi-Wan had been assigned a mission with other members of the Order, after all. It didn’t concern Qui-Gon if others knew about their relationship; he would have welcomed the ability to stand closer to Obi-Wan or hold his hand in public. But Obi-Wan had seemed anxious, nervous at the thought, and Qui-Gon had soothed him instead of pushing the point.

Older members of the Order tended to espouse a dim view of long-term relationships where Jedi were concerned. Some droned on about attachment and its evils; others made the point that a Jedi’s life is not truly their own. A more practical subset of voices quietly reminded whoever would listen that a Jedi’s life expectancy was impossible to predict, and that those left behind would have no support in their grief, as there were no Temple programs for such a thing. Any lover or family left behind by a Jedi would be on its own, and surely a decision to have one anyway was irresponsible at best.

Some Masters even took the hard line: a Jedi should commit themselves fully to the Force, and relationships intruded. Qui-Gon had scoffed the first time someone said that; it was too close to religious extremism for his taste, and unkind besides. These were the same Masters that relied on modern medicine and the refectory rather than healing themselves or meditating for hours to gather Force energy in lieu of food. 

The younger generation had grown into darker times. There was a cycle to all things, like wildfires and new growth, and Qui-Gon had long suspected the galaxy was set for a good burn after ten thousand years of order and democracy. It showed in the difficulty of their missions and the escalating frequency of conflict. The newest set of Knights had seen more battle than some Masters twice their age, and had a very real need for support that was common to almost all sentient beings. 

As long as all parties understand, the younger Knights insisted, then what harm is there in building a support network? A safety net, the center of which is a lover or spouse who can take your weight if you trip off the tight wire that is the Jedi’s duty to the Force and the Republic?

Qui-Gon agreed. Humans in particular were social creatures, in most of their myriad subspecies and forms. Social sentients were ill-served by the Order by being forbidden loving, consenting relationships. In his usual belligerent fashion, Qui-Gon also had no issue with stating such; it was often he’d debated his point in the Master’s lounge, long before he and Obi-Wan became lovers. Before Obi-Wan became his Padawan, even.

Usually the point was moot: he and Obi-Wan were away on missions frequently, far from the Temple and its strict culture, and they took cheerful advantage. Nothing while they were working, of course--after their tete-a-tete in the desert, they’d realized how much could go wrong if they were distracted. But on diplomatic missions, once they retired for the evening, in the privacy of their own rooms they were able to relax and be loving with one another.

Not this time, Qui-Gon thought regretfully. He’d continue to honor Obi-Wan’s wishes. Maybe the young man’s friends were more conservative than Qui-Gon had thought, or maybe Obi-Wan had a career path in mind that would be negatively affected. Who knew?

 

The next two days contained a series of small hurts for Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was very obviously uncomfortable with showing him any affection where anyone might see, and was equally uncomfortable with going to either of their cabins, which could be (correctly) construed as them wanting time alone together. Once his few duties were taken care of the night before their arrival, he signed off duty and went to bed.

Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan loved him, and wanted him; he’d learned that lesson well on Oplao and wouldn’t soon forget. Obi-Wan’s actions were hurtful, but unintentionally so; Qui-Gon had caught wisps of confusion and anxiety from Obi-Wan on several occasions and doubted even Obi-Wan knew exactly why he was acting in such a way. 

Patience will serve me best here, Qui-Gon decided. He pulled the blanket up just to his collarbones, which was as far as he could without leaving his feet cold, and closed his eyes. He could wait until Obi-Wan puzzled out his feelings and came to him with them. Obi-Wan was worth it.

 

Cruna 8T3 was a planet like many that humanoids colonized. It was hot at the equator and cool at the poles, with large masses of water that fueled its precipitation cycle. The only difference was that it had been gifted to the Jedi some five thousand years ago, and was now base to many of their training sites. 

“Cruna also has some lovely mountain ranges to the North, and we’ll be training a few hundred miles from one such. We won’t be visiting, but it will provide lovely views at sunrise and sunset,” their trip leader said. The assembled students, all forty of them, seemed intrigued; no doubt they were looking forward to the downtime at the end of each week.

“It’s late summer at the training site, so there will be a wide variety of forageable foods available, and you will be permitted to hunt for game as well. You must remember however that the wildlife is unacclimated to sentients, and will have no fear of you if you threaten it,” she continued. A tall, slim Twi’lek, Master Hessia was as enthusiastic about this year’s trip as she had been about Obi-Wan’s.

“The wildlife can be very large, as well,” she said, and the projector showed a life-size image of a native ungulate. The herbivore was massive, towering over even Qui-Gon’s height at its shoulder, and sported several clusters of impressive antlers. It looked like coral growth, in a way, but Qui-Gon surmised it was much stronger and more deadly.

“This is one of the few native animals I must ask you to avoid,” Master Hessia said, “I know, you’re all ready to go out and wrestle one of them, I’m sure.” Laughter floated up from the students, who all assuredly did not want to meet the thing.

“Now, you’ve all been assigned to teams of eight. Each group will work with their elders to procure their meals. If a team manages to bring back more than what they need, it will be shared out equally, but you will not be allowed to go over your allotted time.

“Get your bags together and be ready at the loading ramp in half an hour!” she finished, and the Padawans dutifully trotted off to see to their things.

Crisp morning air met them as they disembarked. The sun was bright already, barely setting at this time of year, thanks to a tilted planetary axis, and the Living Force surged in controlled riot, every living thing striving to accomplish its goal before the short summer ended. It was breathtaking, and Qui-Gon soaked it up with a will.

The Padawans only needed a small amount of assistance setting up their camp, and as the Knights and Masters were given cabins, Qui-Gon was free to wander over towards Obi-Wan. Even if they couldn’t act as a couple, Qui-Gon enjoyed Obi-Wan’s company, and craved it when he was gone. To his surprise, Obi-Wan was elbow-deep in food prep along with several other Knights; the Padawans needed to be fed, and could hardly be expected to forage for their first meal bare minutes after arrival. The surprising part was that it was an assigned duty, and Obi-Wan’s name had not been on the list.

“Thought I’d help get food on the table,” Obi-Wan said with a smile. Qui-Gon returned his smile and quelled his disappointment, returning to his cabin to meditate.

This marked a pattern in their interactions for the first full week.

“Sorry, Qui-Gon, I promised I’d help gut the daily catch,” Obi-Wan said when Qui-Gon asked him to meditate with him.

“Well, good night all,” Obi-Wan called, and left without another word to Qui-Gon, who had just sat down nearby.

Time after time Obi-Wan simply ignored Qui-Gon or treated him as though they were no closer than acquaintances or former Master and Padawan. Qui-Gon kept the hurt tucked down where it wasn’t a hindrance and followed Obi-Wan’s lead.

They were kept busy with lessons, foraging, exercises and the simple work of keeping a camp full of hormonal young men and women running smoothly. The Senior Padawans were good beings, but still capable of being distracted by such a large group of potential sexual partners, and it was hard work to keep them focused.

Early morning on their first rest day was blissfully silent as nearly everybody slept in. Qui-Gon thought himself the only one awake until he sensed a bright soul rouse itself and then head his way. He sighed and set his mug down on the counter, leaning back to consider what he would say to Obi-Wan when he arrived. 

A short tap preceded Obi-Wan’s entry into the cabin in little more than a warning that the door was about to open. Obi-Wan was dressed in his warm trousers and a long-sleeve tunic that gapped attractively at the chest, and he carried his own mug of tea in one hand. The other pulled at his boots and peeled them off to sit by the door.

“Good morning,” Qui-Gon said softly. Obi-Wan paused, looking up at Qui-Gon, and then drooped.

“Qui,” he said, and then stopped and looked down at the cup of tea he carried. 

Qui-Gon watched him, both fond and sad, then opened his arms and said, “Come here.”

Obi-Wan set the tea down without a moment’s hesitation and walked over to Qui-Gon, burying himself in the larger man’s chest and holding tight.

“I’m so sorry,” Obi-Wan said, voice muffled against Qui-Gon’s sleep shirt. 

“It’s all right,” Qui-Gon soothed. Obi-Wan turned his face to speak more clearly and frowned up at Qui-Gon.

“It’s not,” Obi-Wan said firmly. He rested his head back against Qui-Gon’s chest with a frustrated sigh. “I owe you an apology. And an explanation, I believe.”

“Of what?” Qui-Gon asked, wary of opening up a discussion without being perfectly clear of the topic.

“I’ve treated you abominably the last week, and every time we’ve been at the Temple since we got together,” Obi-Wan said. His arms tightened slightly around Qui-Gon’s waist in emphasis. “I’m so sorry, Qui-Gon. I let fear lead me.”

“That’s no path for a Jedi to walk,” Qui-Gon said, “least of all one as bright as you. You’re better than that.”

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan replied and then pulled back to stand in the loose circle of Qui-Gon’s arms. “I was afraid I would pull you down.”

“You’ve been a guiding light to me for years, Obi-Wan. You could never.”

“Not that way,” Obi-Wan said with a small sigh. “Your career. Your good standing with the other Masters. I’m not deaf, I know most of your contemporaries are avidly against Jedi having relationships like ours.”

“They’re a different generation, and don’t understand,” Qui-Gon dismissed. A lock of hair slipped out from behind his ear, having escaped his braid, and fell forward into his face. Obi-Wan gently reached up to tuck it back in place.

“Just because they’re wrong doesn’t mean you won’t be negatively affected,” Obi-Wan finally said. 

“Let me worry about my career,” Qui-Gon said, and leaned over to press a kiss onto Obi-Wan’s forehead. “Now. What else?”

“Just anxious about our reception, I suppose,” Obi-Wan said. Qui-Gon looked down at his tense shoulders and noted Obi-Wan’s hands locked behind Qui-Gon’s waist.

“There’s something else, isn’t there,” Qui-Gon guessed. Obi-Wan sighed, more heavily this time, and looked up at Qui-Gon with a flat frown.

“Downside of being lovers with someone who knows you so well,” he groused, “I can’t hide anything. Yes, but it’s ridiculous.”

“Tell me anyway,” Qui-Gon said. 

“I fear...I fear the Masters are right. The ones who say we should be satisfy ourselves with only the Force, or be less than what we should be,” Obi-Wan admitted quietly. “Part of me dismissed that thought long ago, but…”

“Part of you did not,” Qui-Gon finished. Obi-Wan nodded, pressing his face into Qui-Gon’s chest again, and Qui-Gon brought a hand up to stroke the back of Obi-Wan’s head. “You always have doubted yourself.”

“What if I am holding you back, too,” Obi-Wan whispered. Qui-Gon felt his heart break, and he pulled Obi-Wan tightly up against him in a crushing hug.

“You could never,” he soothed, “Oh, my sweet boy. You could never. You have saved me time and time again.” 

They stood there quietly for a while, comforting and being comforted. Their tea was room temperature when they finally picked it back up and moved to the couch, settling in to cuddle with each other for the first time in over a week.

“Spend some time with me today,” Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon smiled warmly up at him from where his head rested in Obi-Wan’s lap as Obi-Wan elaborated, “There’s a path we could take up for a day hike and have some lunch. Just us.”

“That sounds perfect,” Qui-Gon agreed happily. 

They dressed in their separate cabins and signed out of camp before heading towards the trailhead; if Master Hessia needed them, she’d know to contact them via their comms instead of sending runners around camp. It was their rest day and they shouldn’t be needed, but it was prudent to let someone know where they’d be gone all day.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had both opted to leave off their outer tunics in deference to the heat they’d encounter by midday, instead simply tucking them into a small pack to carry along in case it got cold. The trail shouldn’t reach alpine altitudes, but who knew when the weather might change? Their trousers tucked into their boots and packs on their backs, they walked along the narrowing path until it became a proper hiking trail and started up.

The first section was rough, with a steep incline, but the topo map had shown it would be easier going after the first half a kilometer. Proving true, their path leveled to a shallower climb, and soon Obi-Wan was leading them up through old evergreen and paper-bark deciduous forests. They entered a small glade carpeted in feather-leafed ferns, dew shining in the morning sun like drops of glass, and Qui-Gon stopped to admire.

Obi-Wan slowed when he heard Qui-Gon stop walking, and smiled at him, fiercely affectionate. The slight chill from overnight was warming, beginning to send small wisps of steam upward as the dew evaporated, and framed them in scattered light against the backdrop of the trees. There was no real breeze to speak of yet, and the forest was still, broken only by the suggestion of sound and movement from its smallest denizens as they began their day. Qui-Gon looked with delight at the sight of a field mouse scurrying along a log past robin’s egg blue mushrooms, and looked back at Obi-Wan, excited to share it with him.

Walking back, Obi-Wan reached over to take Qui-Gon’s hand and pull it to his mouth, dropping a quick kiss against Qui-Gon’s knuckles. 

“I love you,” Obi-Wan said, and he sent all his love and remorse and apology and determination to do better along their bond. Qui-Gon smiled back and squeezed his hand in return, accepting. “Let’s keep going.”

They forged ahead, taking in the scenery in silence. Upwards the trail led and by late morning they reached the stopping point Obi-Wan had in mind: a point that had been marked on the camp map as providing an exceptionally stunning vista. They turned off the main trail and over to the rock outcropping, then smiled broadly in wonder.

“Exceptionally stunning” had been the appropriate description after all. The valley and flats below were verdant with summer growth, trees and scrub cut through with the shining river. It wound its way across the landscape, hidden only occasionally and disappearing around the mountainside on its way to the ocean. Rising far in the distance were enormous snow-covered mountains, the scale of which boggled the mind; they were some six hundred kilometers away and yet so clear you felt you could trace the ridges with your fingertip.

The breeze pushed their hair from their face and filled their ears with the gentle rush of air as the sun warmed their skin. Abruptly, Qui-Gon reached over and pulled Obi-Wan into a firm embrace.

“Thank you,” he rumbled. “This is one of the loveliest sights I’ve seen in my long life, all the more for your company.” 

“There’s no one else I’d rather see it with,” Obi-Wan replied, his cheek dimpling as he smiled. He’d skipped shaving that morning in favor of more time cuddling, and his stubble caught the light so that his cheek seemed gilt. “Let’s sit and have some lunch, shall we?”

Something seemed to have settled in Obi-Wan as they stared out together into the length of the land. He seemed more at ease, touching Qui-Gon more casually and lovingly than he had the entire last week, and they ate their lunch seated on a rock with Obi-Wan between Qui-Gon’s legs, back to chest. They finished their ration bars--the lightest thing they could pack for the hike--and Qui-Gon heaved a deeply contented sigh, leaning back carefully on the incline behind him. He put his hands behind his head and drank in the sunshine and light breeze, at peace with the world.

A flicker along their bond caught Qui-Gon’s attention, and he cracked open his eyes to look over at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was staring down at him with love in his eyes, and when he spoke he surprised Qui-Gon with what he said.

“Come sleep in my cabin tonight,” Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon raised both eyebrows and had to look further down, tucking his chin to his chest when Obi-Wan leaned back to lay fully against him. “Please?”

“The others will see,” Qui-Gon said carefully, neither an accusation nor a denial. He closed his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and rested his chin against Obi-Wan’s shoulder, pressing their cheeks together to soften his words.

“I know,” Obi-Wan replied, rubbing their cheeks together, and Qui-Gon’s smile would’ve melted butter on a winter day on Hoth. Qui-Gon leaned over further and kissed him, endless affection and love bubbling up in his chest like heat in a hot spring to make him smile so wide his face hurt. It must have been a goofy expression, and Obi-Wan looked at him like it was beautiful.

They kissed happily, full of love for each other, and Obi-Wan turned so that it was more comfortable, then sat up a little more so that Qui-Gon was pushed back on the rock. Qui-Gon yelped a startled curse, sitting straight up. 

The rock was no longer comfortable enough for their activity, and therefore no longer a viable option. They weren’t due back until lights-out, hours from now, and both of them had been craving full intercourse for months. Qui-Gon inhaled to say something, but Obi-Wan beat him to it.

“Please say I can fuck you,” he asked breathlessly, dazed. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but laugh; then Obi-Wan frowned and flushed in embarrassment, realizing how artless his question had been, and that made Qui-Gon laugh even harder.

“You may fuck me, or make love to me, or anally penetrate me, however you want to say it, Obi,” Qui-Gon offered with a broad grin once he could finally speak.

“Right then, up with you,” Obi-Wan said, and yanked Qui-Gon to his feet. They stumbled laughing and touching back across the walking path and into the woods, finding a patch of moss with nothing but loam underneath and no hidden rocks or logs. Qui-Gon sacrificed his cloak for a groundcloth and they undressed each other, reverent hands touching skin as though in prayer. 

Taking his own cloak out of his pack, Obi-Wan searched for--yes, there it was: a small bottle of lubricant he’d secreted into his pocket before they set out, and chuckled bashfully at Qui-Gon’s knowing leer. The leer changed to a sheepish grin when Qui-Gon pulled a similar bottle out of his own cloak, and this time they both laughed as Obi-Wan returned to the laid-out cloak. Qui-Gon offered his hand, then pulled Obi-Wan down and under him, rolling to rub the length of his lean body along Obi-Wan’s more compact form.

Qui-Gon put a hand to Obi-Wan’s cheek as they basked in the love between them. Obi-Wan nuzzled into it with a contented purr.

“I love you,” Qui-Gon murmured, and Obi-Wan’s eyes grew impossibly more tender: soft, and wet, shining with emotion.

“I love you too,” Obi-Wan replied, and leaned up to kiss him. 

They took their time. Their loving went slowly, unlike all the times before, which were hurried, and hungry, and over far too soon. Swapping long, wet kisses, they ran their hands over each other, revelling in the feel of warm skin. Time slowed as they kissed and pushed against one another, lipped playfully at each other’s ears and nose and eyebrows once (“Qui you ridiculous man stop!”), until they were both hard and their cocks were leaving wet smears on skin with each rocking pass.

There was need, but without urgency: the understanding you’ll have to drink water in a few hours, or eat before the end of day, or the anticipation of a well-earned rest after heavy physical labor. Qui-Gon rubbed his beard across Obi-Wan’s skin, abrading it, and it made Obi-Wan shiver with pleasure. Then the tide turned, and it was Obi-Wan’s turn to pet along Qui-Gon’s face, his shoulders, his sides, firm pressure that felt like heaven.

Qui-Gon didn’t want to move; he loved hovering over Obi-Wan like this, and so Obi-Wan passed him the lube and Qui-Gon opened himself up, fingers pressing in and stretching himself open carefully. Obi-Wan scooted down so he could reach and helped, alternating massaging the rim with dipping a finger in teasingly alongside Qui-Gon’s, and the fire built in them. 

By the time he’d gotten three of his own fingers in himself and one of Obi-Wan’s, Qui-Gon decided he was ready and they wiped their hands on Obi-Wan’s cloak. Qui-Gon lined himself up with Obi-Wan’s cock and rocked down onto it with easy rolling movements, taking his lover into himself in increments.

Down a little, and back up. Down a little more, and again back up, easing Obi-Wan’s cock in with short movements that were driving them both mad. They started to sweat with effort and pleasure, but the wind carried it off quickly. Soon Qui-Gon’s ass was pressed fully against Obi-Wan’s hips, and Qui-Gon let out a slow breath, rocking slightly to help himself adjust to the intensity of being so full. Obi-Wan leaned up and pulled Qui-Gon in for a deep, long kiss, both of them dazed with pleasure, and only when Obi-Wan’s abdominal muscles began to tire did he lean back. 

Qui-Gon began to ride him smoothly, his muscles well-used to work and warmed by the hike up; he planted his hands on Obi-Wan’s chest, covering Obi’s pectorals with his palms. His knees dug into the loam and moss on either side of Obi-Wan’s hips, the cloak keeping him dry and the moss keeping him cool, and it wasn’t the easiest to move against but it was so comfortable, like the softest bed.

The sun shone down through the leaves across their skin, and Qui-Gon was treated to the sight of the pattern of light through the leaves on Obi-Wan’s skin. It was dazzling, and Obi-Wan was just as stunning in his beauty under Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan shifted and pulled his knees up behind Qui-Gon for leverage and began thrusting up with Qui-Gon’s rhythm, and they moved faster. It was the most rewarding effort imaginable, but they were both approaching a plateau and Qui-Gon’s thighs began to tire. He leaned down to kiss Obi-Wan deeply, and then straightened, and Obi-Wan took it as permission to slide his hands down to grip Qui-Gon’s hips tight. 

“Go,” Qui-Gon panted, and Obi-Wan obeyed. Qui-Gon braced himself and Obi-Wan began to thrust up, pounding into Qui-Gon quickly and drawing appreciative sounds from them both. Qui-Gon’s rumbling groan was loud in the breathing quiet of the forest, and Obi-Wan’s keening and grunts of effort were of similar volume. It would have been obscene, the slapping of damp skin against damp skin and the erotic groans and keening, but here in this wilderness it was only right and good.

“Oh, close! So close,” Qui-Gon gasped, and Obi-Wan had to dig deep for the energy and stamina to keep going, just a little longer; Qui-Gon came messily with as close to a wail as a man with his voice could, shooting semen up onto Obi-Wan’s chest. The first spurt caught the underside of Obi-Wan’s chin, startling him, and it was so shockingly erotic that Obi-Wan couldn’t hold off his own orgasm, helplessly grinding himself up into Qui-Gon’s ass as far as he could push. They gasped in breath together, eking out the last of their pleasure as they held on for dear life.

Finally, Qui-Gon sagged, resting his weight on Obi-Wan’s hips as sweat and semen cooled on their skin. He closed his eyes, quietly observing the play of light and shadow across his face, and Obi-Wan gazed up at him, love-struck. Obi-Wan’s cock fell out of Qui-Gon with a wet sound, and Qui-Gon made a disgruntled noise before huffing and shifting forward onto his hands and knees, then falling carefully onto his side next to Obi-Wan. 

There was silence, far-off birdsong, and the breeze in their ears, the fluttering warmth of intermittent sunshine on their skin, the moist coolness of moss under their cloak. Obi-Wan curled up around him, one leg between Qui-Gon’s and his arm under Qui-Gon’s head, holding him close as he could. The heat of their skin was enough to keep them warm for a while, but then they cooled enough to catch a chill. Qui-Gon reached out to drag his cloak over them with the Force, and they cuddled up tightly, drifting together and resting.

Obi-Wan woke slowly, then sighed and gently roused Qui-Gon. It was late afternoon, the sun slanting orange through the trees, and they needed to head back or risk being late. They cleaned up carefully, tucking everything back into their bag and dressing, and started back down the trail. They were quiet still, shooting each other loving, dreamy looks and sweet smiles, or touching a shoulder or hand before parting again to stay on the narrow trail. 

They made it to where the trail widened out near camp, and Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon next to him so that they walked closely with shoulders brushing and hands twined. Just outside camp, they saw the class of Padawans and the other escorts talking and laughing over evening meal. 

Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan’s hand with a sigh, and tried to step back--

“No,” Obi-Wan said, and gripped his hand tight. “Stay with me.”

Qui-Gon felt his tears spring to his eyes along with an upwelling of honor, love, pride for Obi-Wan, and contentment flooding his heart. It overflowed into their bond, and Obi-Wan smiled brightly and kissed his hand and his cheek.

“About time!” came a shout from the campfire, then they burst out into whooping and hollering, loud raucous laughter and cheering. The Padawans and Knights and Masters applauded and Qui-Gon could feel so many things from his beloved through their bond as Obi-Wan waved a rude gesture at them: joy, both their friends’ and that of their family-in-the-Force, relief that they were finally together in everyone’s eyes, and brimming tears that didn’t quite spill over.

They’d traveled such a vast journey from that far-away mission in the cold, Qui-Gon reflected as Padawans came over to slap them on the back and hand them some dinner as they offered congratulations. From a Master who turned away from a much-needed and much-in-need apprentice, to a capable Knight and his partner, to when they finally realized they loved one another, it had been a long road. A rare moment of prescience revealed the past and the future stretching out behind and before them, bright ribboning roads of light. They would walk those paths together, just as they always did: melded at their core and stronger for it.

 

Late that night, they laid in bed with one another. The Senior Padawans, led by a laughing and smirking Master Hessia, had team-carried Obi-Wan’s bed to Qui-Gon’s cabin and to the bedroom, where they shoved it up against Qui-Gon’s bed to make a decently sized sleeping surface. Obi-Wan had pelted them with ration bars as they laughed and ran back out of the door, then leaned out to shout “THANK YOU!” before slamming it shut. The teens’ cackling laughter sounded muffled through the door.

They’d been left blessedly alone after that. After dinner it was Obi-Wan’s turn to gasp and push back against Qui-Gon’s cock, loving every second he was penetrated, and Qui-Gon could already tell he was plotting how to get to bottom most often.

Afterwards, they lay together on the clean sheets, reveling in being indoors, when Obi-Wan spoke up.

“How many others are there, do you think?” he asked unexpectedly. Qui-Gon hummed inquiringly against the top of Obi-Wan’s head, half-asleep.

“Others who want to be together,” Obi-Wan clarified. Qui-Gon grunted.

“It’s not forbidden,” Qui-Gon said after another quiet moment had passed.

“But it’s not encouraged, either,” Obi-Wan said. “And there are others who aren’t as brave, or have more to lose. Or maybe just don’t know how--they can’t all be in love with someone they’ve known for over a decade.” Qui-Gon snorted a laugh, but it was true, and something about it was beginning to niggle at the back of his brain.

“...we are repressed, aren’t we,” Qui-Gon finally said. Obi-Wan nodded.

“There’s no support for Jedi in relationships or their partners,” Obi-Wan said, voice soft. “The Order expects Jedi to succeed on their own or fail, and all the better if they fail. It’s wrong.”

It’s wrong, Qui-Gon heard repeated over again in his mind. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. It’s wrong. The Force sang out in a battle hymnal, calling him to righteous service, and he could not deny the command.

“It’s wrong,” Qui-Gon agreed, dazed from the chorus in his head, “and we will change it.”


End file.
